


Wrong-Footed

by Moonshoes_Potter



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Blow Jobs, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Canon Era, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Get Together, I have no idea what season this is but it's before Arthur's king, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Making Out, Referenced Sex, There's no actual explicit sex, Top Merlin (Merlin), also very much themes of, but just to be safe I'm tagging:, idiots to lovers, literally 3k words of making out, literally like the least explicit it could be, ugh i feel bad just typing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 08:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshoes_Potter/pseuds/Moonshoes_Potter
Summary: Arthur doesn't realize what an absolute pillow princess he is.





	Wrong-Footed

Arthur looked up from his reports to where Merlin was puttering around his room. He pretended to be busy doing whatever he was supposed to do in the evenings, but he kept sneaking looks at Arthur. Arthur watched him the whole time, trying to read him. Every time their eyes met, Merlin would quickly look away. In that brief second before averting his gaze, Merlin looked… hungry. That’s the only word Arthur could come up with. He pinned Arthur in place with every glance, and Arthur was tense with anticipation.

Arthur was no stranger to being desired, for he knew that’s what this was; they’d been dancing like this for a while now. He had been the object of women’s (and, once in a while, men’s) affections before, but this felt different somehow. In most situations, his partners deferred to him, following his lead and aiming to please him, the prince. Merlin looked more like he wanted to eat Arthur alive. It made Arthur’s stomach turn over, but strangely not in a bad way.

Nevertheless, Arthur was a man of strategy. If a commander feels he’s losing control of a battle, it’s his duty to lead his soldiers back into the path of victory. Arthur wasn’t sure how this applied to the situation at hand, but he had an idea.

Given the nature of their current relationship, Arthur knew he must tread carefully and exactly in his endeavor. He didn’t want to force Merlin into anything or delude him into believing Arthur only wanted him for pleasure. 

The thing about whatever lay between Arthur and Merlin was that it felt different than a simply physical connection, which is what Arther was used to. Arthur was well aware of Merlin’s fierce devotion to him, which surpassed that of a servant to his employer. Arthur also distantly knew that he in turn trusted Merlin over anyone else, even his own father, and would do anything to keep him safe (though Merlin didn’t much need it, what with being a powerful sorcerer). But Arthur wasn’t good with words, and it didn’t bear saying anyway.

He finally set down the sheet of paper he had been pretending to read for the past fifteen minutes (and trying but failing to read for the last hour). He strode over to the door, pulled out a key, and locked it. Merlin watched him closely from the table by the opposite wall, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline when the lock clicked into place. 

Arthur took a breath and turned. “Merlin,” he said, voice soft but strong, forcing himself to look at Merlin’s face and not his hands or his own feet. He slowly walked towards Merlin. “I’d like to try something. I know you’re sworn to obey me, but right now, while it’s just us, I ask you to stop me if you become uncomfortable.”

By this time, he had made his way into Merlin’s space. Merlin was pretty much up against the wall, looking a little tense but definitely not repulsed. Almost intrigued.

Arthur took that as a sign to continue, “I’ll stop and never mention this again if you just give the word—“ he leaned in “—though I don’t think that’s what you want.” 

They were sharing breath now. Arthur could count the pores on Merlin’s face, see every eyelash. Merlin’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he continued to look Arthur up and down like he was a delicious feast waiting to be devoured. 

Arthur finally gave in to the tension and closed the distance. Merlin began kissing back immediately, and Arthur felt like he was going to float away. His eyes fluttered closed, but he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Did he put them on Merlin’s waist? But Merlin wasn’t a woman, so would he still enjoy it? He felt too light, like Merlin’s lips on his — which were amazing, by the way — were the only things keeping him from being swept up in the current of emotions. 

At last, Merlin pushed him away gently. They were both panting and red-faced and still very close together. Merlin’s pupils were enormous; as were Arthur’s, he was sure. 

Arthur cleared his throat, searching Merlin’s eyes. “Good?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Merlin’s _very kissable_ mouth. “Yes, definitely,” he reassured Arthur. “But…” He trailed off.

Arthur noticed Merlin’s shoulders, which were scrunched up near his neck. He stepped back right away, clasping his hands to keep them from shaking. “Sorry, didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s alright,” Merlin cut in, though he visibly relaxed and followed Arthur away from the wall. “I enjoyed it, I just meant… you seemed sort of unsure with how you were doing it.”

Arthur frowned. That was sort of right, but what other way was there? “How do I do it better?”

Merlin bit his lip and looked down, considering this. “Well, it’s more of a team effort, I suppose.” Then, meeting Arthur’s gaze once more, he asked, “Permission to act freely, sire?”

Arthur cocked his head in slight confusion but responded, “Of course,” perhaps a little too quickly. “I trust you,” he added.

Merlin smirked and his eyes glinted with the same hunger from earlier. That was all the warning Arthur got before Merlin’s fingers wrapped themselves in the front of his tunic and Merlin’s lips crashed into his. But it didn’t stop there, for Arthur felt himself being deftly maneuvered to turn around and then back a step, until his back hit the stone wall. 

Arthur’s head stuttered its way through the kiss. His entire body sang with the grounding pressure of the wall on his back and the warm mass of Merlin, who was much stronger than he looked, pressed up against his entire front. Merlin’s hands — _gods_ , his hands — now gripped Arthur’s shoulders, pushing him even further as if trying to make Arthur go _through_ the solid rock. His tongue worked its way into Arthur’s mouth possessively, exploring every crevice. Arthur was just along for the ride, and he loved it. 

_Still not close enough_ , Arthur thought sluggishly. His hands, which had previously rested uselessly at his sides, snaked up to hold the collar of Merlin’s tunic tightly in their fists, seemingly of their own accord. Instead of pushing forward ― like Merlin had done just moments before ― to fight for dominance, as he had intended to, Arthur pulled Merlin even closer to himself.

Merlin had no qualms about this. In fact, Arthur believed he felt a smile against his lips, but then they went back to their delicious rhythm. The only sounds in the room were that of their mouths, heavy breathing on each other’s cheeks, and the rustle of fabric as the two of them tried to get so close that they might have fused into one if they weren’t careful.

Everything was moving so fast, Arthur feared it would be over too soon. Already Merlin pulled away for a moment and dove onto Arthur’s bare neck like a hawk to prey as Arthur watched through slit eyes. Arthur couldn’t say anything, though; he had to devote all his energy to staying upright. What Merlin was doing with his mouth had made him gasp and go weak in the knees. 

Unfortunately for him, Merlin took the shaky release of breath as signal to let up. 

“Do you want to…” He was panting but hesitant to actually say it.

Arthur tried to chuckle, but it came out breathy and almost a whimper. “Why, are you in a hurry?” They both spoke quietly, even though there was no one around to hear them.

“Well, I imagine you have some duties to attend to before bed.” Merlin almost looked sheepish in the candlelight, like it was his fault for holding Arthur up. Not literally, but… okay, now Arthur’s mind was wandering into choppy waters.

He shook himself and loosened his grip on Merlin’s tunic a little, but he didn’t let go. “I’m the prince. We’ve got all the time in the world, if I say so.”

Merlin smiled. “How do you want to spend it?” That damn look was back.

Arthur’s face burned. For once, he was grateful for his room’s poor lighting at this hour. Maybe he wasn’t ready for _that_ quite yet. “Maybe just more of this? I’m in no rush.”

Merlin nodded understandingly. “Of course. Mind if I make one small adjustment?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Arthur agreed right away, ignoring the chill that went up his spine at Merlin’s words. Damn Merlin, damn him and how much power he had over Arthur.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Merlin commanded, the ghost of his breath on Arthur’s ear. Arthur complied, and in doing so he pulled Merlin even closer to him. Merlin paused. Before Arthur could ask what he should do next, because apparently he did that with Merlin now, Merlin whispered with his mouth tantalizingly close to Arthur’s skin, and his voice about two octaves lower than normal, “Now put your legs around me.”

Arthur felt his eyes widen and his breath quicken, both completely out of his control. Control was rapidly slipping through his fingers, but he found he didn’t care much at all. In one last-ditch attempt to salvage his pride, he quipped, “I doubt you’ve the strength to hold me for long.” His voice sounded much too strangled for his tastes.

“I’ll manage,” Merlin said evasively.

Arthur abruptly became tired of lying. He’d basically admitted his feelings for Merlin; what was one more secret in the open? 

“It’s cheating if you use magic to keep me up.”

Merlin froze. He pulled back as far as he could (what with Arthur still gripping his neck) to search Arthur’s face, suddenly fearful. “You―”

“It’s okay,” Arthur interrupted, hoping to put every ounce of trust he had for Merlin into as few words as possible, “No more talking.”

He didn’t give Merlin much chance to respond, because he chose that moment to jump up, wrap his legs around Merlin’s waist, and swallow his protests in a searing kiss. Merlin grasped Arthur’s thighs almost instinctively, deciding to go with it against his better judgement and kiss back.

Arthur moved his hands to hold Merlin’s face between them, tilting it just so. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he could only imagine how Merlin fared. They both poured everything into the kiss, all of their worries and pain vanishing in that moment. 

It was so messy, and Arthur kept moving Merlin’s head around so their teeth clicked every time, but it was still perfect. Merlin pushed Arthur against the wall again. That was it. Merlin was it for him. His mouth was going numb from kissing and his back was probably going to be black and blue within the hour, but he didn’t care. Arthur felt so giddy; his heart was pounding like it wanted to jump out of his chest.

Merlin was still going strong, moving down once again to mark up Arthur’s neck. He holds back a sigh. He’ll have to steal Merlin’s stupid neckerchief to cover it up, the bastard. 

Merlin tilted his head back up, removing his lips from Arthur’s skin. He put their foreheads together and took a moment to just breathe. “Perhaps we should move to your bed.” It was only a few feet away, after all.

“Why, are your arms getting tired?” Arthur laughed quietly, looking at Merlin through his eyelashes. 

“Shut up,” Merlin bumped his nose against Arthur’s. 

“Make me,” Arthur challenged, sounding braver than he felt. 

Merlin just stared for a moment before pushing off the wall, stepping slowly over to the bed to avoid jostling Arthur. Merlin’s knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he paused once again before bending at the waist, lowering Arthur to hang just inches above it. Finally, he dropped Arthur and let him bounce twice. 

Arthur kicked his boots off and crawled backwards so his feet no longer hung off the bed. He waited for Merlin’s next cue, still holding himself up on his elbows above his pillow. Merlin remained standing where he was. 

“Are you trying to think of a spell to use on me, or are you going to come over here?” Arthur actually really wanted to see some magic, for Merlin to be comfortable enough to use it. 

Instead of answering, Merlin kicked off his boots, leaned back down, and crawled over to Arthur across the bed. Arthur’s legs, which had been bent at the knees and close together, were suddenly wrenched apart with a flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes (so he hadn’t imagined it), making space for Merlin to occupy. 

Merlin crept forward, until his head was directly above Arthur’s. Another flash of gold pulled Arthur’s arms out from underneath him, and he flopped onto his pillow, still making no effort to escape his new Merlin-shaped cage and acting like he was not at all impressed, despite the rest of his… body language saying otherwise.

Merlin’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, but Arthur still didn’t budge. Then, one at a time, Merlin’s hands snaked down to grab Arthur’s wrists, pulling them up above their owner’s head and using them to support his weight, effectively pinning Arthur to the bed. 

Arthur’s heart was racing, but he held Merlin’s gaze. Despite the fact that Merlin’s knees were basically _right_ up against the biggest indicator that Arthur was very excited for whatever he was planning, Arthur felt obligated to maintain his weak façade of nonchalance. He added a smirk for good measure. 

Merlin laughed once — more of just a sharp exhale through his nose, really — and mumbled, “Prat.” 

Amazing how just a simple word (an insult, even) has the power to shatter Arthur’s conviction so completely. He only gained a second to relish in his victory before he lunged upwards to meet Merlin’s mouth in yet another bruising kiss. 

Their chests brushed each other, the fabric of their tunics feeling more abrasive than they ever had before. 

Arthur tried to speak between kisses and moans. “Too — many — damn — clothes,” he managed at last. Merlin stopped briefly to let him talk. “Let my hands up.”

“Giving orders now, are we?” Merlin couldn’t keep the adoration out of his voice, and neither could Arthur. 

“Well, you can’t do it either,” Arthur almost whined. He wiggled his wrists the best he could under Merlin’s grasp, illustrating his point. “All our hands are occupied.”

Merlin leaned in so close, their lips brushed when he said, “You forget: I don’t need hands.”

He may as well have taken all the air out of Arthur’s lungs. Arthur blinked and all of their clothes were gone, as was his last shred of self-control. He kissed Merlin again, pushing as far up as he could to feel more warmth on his chest. 

Merlin moved Arthur’s arms to hold both in one of his hands, splaying the other one across Arthur’s back to support him. Arthur made a split-second decision to throw caution to the wind. He forced his torso back onto the bed and lifted his legs up, hooking his ankles at the small of Merlin’s back. He almost slipped on his first attempt, shutting up Merlin’s giggle with a bite to the lip.

After what felt like both hours and mere seconds, they took a short break. Merlin released his grip on Arthur’s arms and relaxed with his head on Arthur’s chest, which rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. It was then that Merlin fixed Arthur with another hungry look. His eyes flicked down between them, then back up. 

“May I…?” Merlin asked, more out of formality than uncertainty, but the question was still there.

Arthur gulped. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d last long.” 

Merlin chuckled, not unkindly, and made what was clearly an attempt at an Arthur impression, “I could take you apart with one blow.”

It caught Arthur so off guard that he barked out a laugh and lightly hit Merlin on the shoulder. “You idiot.”

“ _Your_ idiot,” Merlin corrected, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“It feels more like I’m yours, lately, you know.” Arthur brushed a lock of hair out of Merlin’s face and finally nodded his assent at the initial question. 

Merlin took the answer and ran with it, moving back down the bed and getting to work. All too quickly, Arthur’s limbs felt like jello and his eyes only saw stars. 

He bit out a moan, “Merlin.”

“Too much?” Merlin asked, apparently a fucking gentleman all of a sudden. 

Arthur waved him off. “Keep going. Do what you want.”

Merlin told him to turn over, so he turned over. He felt kisses on the back of his neck, a firm grip on his wrists again, and something else _very_ new but also not that bad. Quite good, in fact. Perhaps something he’d like to try again sometime, but he’d had his fill for now. He told Merlin as much, once they’d been cleaned up by a quick spell. Merlin smiled and curled up against him, now both under the soft blankets. 

_Not as soft as Merlin,_ Arthur thought as he drifted off to sleep, stroking Merlin’s face with his thumb. 

~~~~~

The first thing Arthur became aware of the next morning was the absence of heat in his bed. His eyes snapped open and squinted around his room in the sunlight. Oh, good. Merlin was just serving breakfast. When had he gotten dressed?

The next thing was the pain. It wasn’t a bad kind of pain, mind; he’d had much worse in just simple training. It was just different. The skin on his back felt raw, and…

Arthur couldn’t hold back a laugh. Soon it turned into a whole fit, with him clutching his sides.

Merlin, finished setting up their tray of food, made his way over to the bed and lay down next to Arthur. 

“What are you giggling about now?” Merlin smiled into Arthur’s hair and tugged him closer. 

“My arse hurts,” Arthur huffed, almost in disbelief. “And I don’t giggle.”

“Could've fooled me.” Merlin poked at Arthur’s stomach, which was still tense with humor. 

They lay there for a moment, watching the sun stream through the window and illuminate dust in the air, before Merlin let out a snort. 

“What?” 

“I picked up the prince and kissed him against a wall.”

They both dissolved into giggles.

“I let you,” Arthur countered, “I put my legs around you.”

“I—I pinned you to your own bed and had my way with you,” Merlin said between gasps. 

“I whined like an absolute girl.” 

“I bossed you around. A servant bossed his prince around.”

Arthur took Merlin’s hand and admired his clear blue eyes. “Your prince,” he whispered.

Merlin grinned back. “My prince.”

**Author's Note:**

> my first time writing anything even close to smut. I hope I tagged correctly. please give me feedback on that. also i would appreciate some validation, if you can spare it.


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